Sick Days
by velvetregulus
Summary: Severus Snape is sick. Looks like Lucius will be working overtime to make him feel better. "M" Rating is for later chapters.
1. Introduction

Severus never got sick. Maybe once, as a child. Maybe. But never as an adult. Never as a student at Hogwarts, and never as it's teacher. Well, he was never sick in a way that showed. At least, when he was sick, he made sure no one noticed. But, now...ugh. Now he was sick, real sick; from his reddened and raw nose to his cold and sore toes. It had started as a sneeze, really.

"Gods! All the worst colds start with sneezes. And it's always one sneeze, too. You'll be fine, going about your day, teaching a class, when-ACHOO! Then it hits you. Like an iron cauldron full of iron...and sickness! Might as well drown myself in one. Be done with it."

*hacking cough, followed by pathetic moaning*

When Severus Snape got sick, he also got cranky. A hot, sweaty, snotty, coughing, moaning, moping, shivering ball of ill humor sort of cranky. The kind of cranky that Lucius was a _sucker_ for. He hated that term, sucker. It sounded rude, and a little bit dirty. But, as a friend had once pointed out (and this friend will remain nameless) ever since his school-boy days he had always been irresistibly drawn toward the sick. It hadn't mattered who was sick, well it did, I mean, he wouldn't just go running off to take care of some Mudblood, but, even he had to admit, a sick Muggle-born was a pathetic Muggle-born. Pathetic in a sexy way. Wow, even Lucius knew how bizarre that sounded.

He, attracted to a Mudblood? _Weird_.

What was also weird was his fascination (fetish) with the sick. It was almost like a compulsion, he just _had_ to check up on them. He had to bring them soup, or water, or a book, or something. Anything. It was this bizarre compulsion which kept him as far away from St. Mungo's as he could get. Even if _he_ was ill, he never went. He knew he'd find himself stumbling around, trying to heal the sick like some sort of twisted, limping savior. He'd barely made it through school, keeping the barest of grips on his arrogantly cool detachment. A detachment that Severus saw right through. It had made him despise Severus, for seeing so clearly through him. It had also made him adore him, but just a little. He did have an image to uphold; a family name, a fortune. He couldn't go around just adoring anybody, he knew. He barely adored Narcissa, as it were! Oh, but Severus, that was such a different story.


	2. Lip Gloss

Lucius had made a habit of making unexpected visits to Hogwarts. He loved seeing his son, it was true, but he always traveled to Hogwarts with the idea of seeing Severus. He had always told Narcissa it was to check up on Draco, however, or to "give Dumbledore a good hassle," or to inspect the curriculum, or to interrogate Hagrid as to why this years pumpkin crop was so pathetic, or to make sure Slytherin had the best brooms, or to check up on the castles...roof tiles.

"Because, you know, if they fell...someone could...get...hurt?"

"Because that has ever happened," Narcissa had replied. "And even if it did, poor building maintenance would be a _fantastic_ reason to bring Dumbledore up on charges of being an incompetent headmaster."

"Oh, yeah, because that would happen!" As soon as he had spoken, Lucius realized how...pubescent that sounded.

_Merlin_, thought part of him, _you sound like a bloody drama queen_. _A big, flaming, drama queen. Like that fanny-bandit Lockhart._

_Now there's the pot calling the kettle black, _replied the other half.

"Oh, shut up!" Lucius shouted. Out loud.

"WHAT?" Replied Narcissa.

"No, not that."

"Not _what_?" Narcissa said, her displeasure shifting from a slow simmer to a death-boil in less then the time it would have taken Lucius to say "oh bugger" to himself.

"Not, that. Not, Dumbledore. He isn't incompetent." He paused long enough for Narcissa to open her mouth when he finished. "He's _beyond_ incompetent. He's mentally unstable. _In fact_, I am _so_ glad you mentioned this, because someone needs to set him straight. _In fact, _if someone doesn't I will spend the rest of the day fearing for Draco's life! To think we left our son with that..." he searched his mind like a rabid merman whose lost his trident, "fantastic buffoon of a man. That _sham_ of a teacher!"

_Oh, VERY GOOD, Lucius, _the two-halves of his conscience said in unison. _Well done._

"Darling, Lucius," Narcissa's temper had vanished. "You are ever the genius. _You _should be headmaster."

"Me?"

"Yes, you," she stepped closer to her husband and embraced him, "Can't you just hear it? Headmaster Malfoy. Ooh!" Her cheeks flushed. "That would look _so_ good on you." Her lips spoke, while her eyes obviously added, "and so would I."

_Oh, Merlin's beard._

"You know what my Cissy-poo? _You_ should write the Minister while _I _handle Dumbledore. How's that sound?"

She let him go, but not before giving him a deep kiss. "Perfect." Narcissa grinned and floated out of the room.

Lucius touched his lips, where his wife had just kissed him. "Mm! _Matilda's Own: Sparkling Raspberry Lip Gloss_ 'with extra cinnamon for added pucker' My favorite!" He licked his lips. "Right. Hogwarts."


	3. Snape and the Fat Man

"Are you feeling any better, Severus?" Inquired Dumbledore, taking a seat next to Snape. _Gods, Severus, you look like a pile of dragon droppings._

_Oh, that tone._ Severus thought to himself, slouching just a bit farther into his chair. _That tone! He always sounds so pleasant. Why does he always have to be so unbearably pleasant? I'm sick enough as it is! Thank Merlin he can't read my mind, gods know he has his hands in too many fudge shoppes as it is._

Snape pulled the blanket he had draped over him a bit more snugly. "In what way do I look any better, Headmaster?" Snape responded, tightening his grip around the coarse fabric. _Did I just equate my mind to a fudge shoppe? _"Was it my chipper disposition?"

Dumbledore smiled, "Ah, Severus, I see this illness has in no way sapped you of you're spirit. Have you spoken to Poppy?"

_Dumpling Pomfrey? Egads, no. _"I have...considered it. But, this is most likely just..."

"...one of those twenty-four hour bugs?" Dumbledore offered.

"In what way does my illness compare with to the lifespan of an insect?" Snape tried to glare at Dumbledore but felt pain in doing so. _Too tired to glare? Maybe this is what death feels like._

Dumbledore smiled again, "Ah, Severus, I can see you _are_ a bitworse for the wear." He leaned forward, as if to place his hand upon Snape's knee. Dumbledore's movement caused an automatic response in Snape. That response was to move. Away. He tried to pull away, something he found impossible seeing as he was still sick and in a chair. Instead of escaping he made a sort of lurching-jerking motion. He bit his lip, and winced in pain. It hurt. Everything _still_ hurt. Dumbledore caught Snape's...convulsion, and ceased his leaning.

_Ugh, just go away. _Snape thought. _And what in the name of Merlin's crotch rocket _does_ my sickness have to do with insects? _He managed a half-curious look at the Headmaster. _Is Dumbledore really that addled? I mean, I know he can be highly unconventional but there _is_ a point. Isn't there? Or, is Dumbledore just...that special? Must be._

"Is there something on my face, Severus?"

"Huh? No. Nothing, Headmaster." _Please, please, please go away._

_Oy, maybe I should just go away. _Dumbledore thought. _There is no consoling Severus. Not Then, not now. Not ever. But, would I be myself if I didn't try?_

"Is there anything I can get for you, Severus? A cup of tea? Another blanket?

_Yeah, you leaving would be a treasure. _"No, no thank you, Headmaster. I've been ill before. I'll recover."

"Of that I have no doubt." Dumbledore stood to leave. "In that case..."

"Forgive me, Headmaster, if I do not show you the door."

Dumbledore grinned. _Again? _"Of course, Severus. Please rest up. And if there should be something you require, please do not hesitate to ask."

Snape nodded and found his nodding led to his head simply lolling above his chest. He inhaled sharply and looked up. Dumbledore was gone.

"Oh, in the name of the Three Witches of Argyle thank god." Severus blinked, thought about sleeping, and suddenly found himself not awake anymore. _Wow. This sick thing gives me magic powers. Oh, hah, wait..._


End file.
